I Would, I Will, I Am
by FinnFiona
Summary: Hermione is on a personal mission to retrieve her parents from the protection she placed them under during the war against Voldemort. Fortunately, Ron insists on coming along, for he is able to help in a way that neither he nor Hermione expects.


"Do you realize this is the first proper date we've had?" Ron teased as he watched Hermione count out the Muggle money for the waitress.

"Well we're just going to have to do something about that, aren't we?" Hermione answered wryly as they stepped out of the café into the bright Australian sun.

_I certainly hope so_, Ron thought, still berating himself for taking so long to get together with this girl, this _beautiful girl… what the bloody hell was I doing all that time?_

"Ron? Hullo, Ron?" Hermione waved a hand in front of his face, jarring him out of his thoughts. "Where did you go?"

"Oh, I…" Ron searched for some excuse, "I was just thinking what a long month it's been, that's all."

"Oh…"

_Blast it, wrong thing to say_, Ron sighed as he watched the smile slip from Hermione's face. Despite the euphoria over Voldemort's demise, it had come at a heavy cost, with wounds that were still too fresh. "Erm, what I meant was that it's been a long time getting to today, when you get to have your parents back," Ron offered, struggling to get that smile back.

It worked, if only for a second. "Yes, well, we have to find them first," Hermione stated matter-of-factly, scanning the crowded plaza. Four weeks after that final battle at Hogwarts, they had all decided it was safe enough to retrieve Hermione's parents from their magically enforced, protective relocation. Hermione had insisted on leaving immediately and Ron had been equally adamant that he would go with her. Truth be told, Ron regretted many of his past actions–particularly towards Hermione and especially in the past year. Yet he knew that they'd all made mistakes, and he was determined to learn from his–and make up for them, if he could.

And so Ron found himself in Australia, by Hermione's side. They hadn't had much success upon their arrival that morning, however, finding that Mr. and Mrs. Granger were out for the day. Hermione–tired of wasting time in restaurants and book shops–was now determined to comb the streets for the rest of the afternoon.

"We'll find them," Ron said, trying to sound confident, and slipped his hand into Hermione's. She squeezed it appreciatively and they set out.

"Ron! Oh, Ron, look!" Hermione squealed after several hours of fruitless searching, bouncing on her toes with glee as she spotted the pair examining some fresh tulips at a flower stand.

"Excellent!" Ron exclaimed, sharing in her excitement. "Right, now, what do we need to do?"

Ron could tell that Hermione's mind was working furiously as she evaluated her surroundings. "Oh, dear, well, this isn't the ideal spot, but it'll have to do…" she trailed off, lost in thoughtful preparation.

_I should know better than to expect immediate explanation of her ideas_, Ron grinned inwardly, soaking in her pursed lips–knotted brow–twisting fingers.

Hermione suddenly pulled Ron around into a secluded alley and threw the borrowed invisibility cloak over her shoulders. "Hopefully, I'll only be a moment," came her disembodied voice. Ron could tell she was anxious and tried to smile reassuringly in her direction, but her giggle told him he must look as though he was trying to encourage the bricks on the far wall.

A few minutes later, Ron saw Hermione emerge from the cloak while hiding behind a large group of stone pillars at the edge of the square. She then headed off Mr. and Mrs. Granger as they started to move on with their purchases. Ron couldn't hear the exchange, but he could tell almost immediately that Hermione's efforts hadn't worked. She looked crestfallen as Mrs. Granger smiled serenely and shook her head, moving past her daughter without a backwards glance. Hermione seemed glued to the spot in shock and dismay.

"I–I don't know what happened," she stammered as she saw Ron walking toward her. When he'd reached her, she still seemed somewhat dumbfounded. "I was so certain that it would work–I'd stopped considering the possibility that…" she trailed off, lip quivering, not wanting to finish that terrible thought.

"Don't be daft," Ron said, pulling her into a comforting embrace. "You're still the cleverest witch I know–you're just a bit nervous."

"But what if–" Hermione tried to say into his chest, but Ron cut her off.

"No. No, don't even say it," he said, stooping a little to kiss the top of her head and pulling back, firmly holding onto her shoulders. _Don't even think it_, he warned his own worried mind.

Hermione took a few deep breaths and put on a brave face. _Does she know I can see right through that?_ Ron mused, though he soon wondered if that meant she could see through his façade as well. He hoped not–he felt that he had to get her through this, as she had gotten him through so many trials in the past. He didn't realize that he had already done quite the same for her on many occasions.

Setting her jaw, Hermione turned to where her parents were now examining the lunch menu at a nearby eatery. "Right, well, I can't go up to them again, it'll seem suspect. I'll perform the spell from under the cloak, and I'll get your attention when I'm done. You can go up to them and, with any luck, they'll remember you." Ron nodded his assent and they split off.

Ron stood casually perusing some magazines, carefully watching the Grangers' progress around the square. After several minutes, he was starting to wonder what was taking Hermione so long. He was answered by a swift tap on his shoulder that made him jump nearly a foot into the air.

Trying to act naturally for the benefit of the puzzled vendor, he smiled sheepishly and walked several feet away before muttering, "Are you trying to kill me?!" out of the corner of his mouth.

"Sorry," Hermione said impatiently, "but I couldn't see any other way to get your attention from under this ruddy cloak. I think I've done the spell properly this time, so, erm, go say hello." She prodded him in the back, sounding nervous again.

Ron walked slowly over to where Mr. and Mrs. Granger now stood by a small, central fountain.

"Erm… hi," he said, not sure what else he should say.

"Hello," Mrs. Granger said disinterestedly, "can we help you with something?"

Ron felt his face fall.

"Look, if you're promoting something as well, we really aren't interested," Mr. Granger said brusquely and began to steer Mrs. Granger away from Ron. "Kids these days," Ron heard Mr. Granger mutter as they walked away.

Not seeing Hermione anywhere, Ron collected himself and tried to plaster on a positive expression as he headed back to the alleyway where Hermione had first donned the cloak. He found her there, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Hermione… please don't cry," he muttered feebly.

"Don't cry?" she asked, taking her frustration out on him and hurriedly wiping her cheeks with a snuffle. "My parents don't even recognize me–me, their only daughter! I did this to them! And now I'll never have them back."

_She's just upset, don't turn this into a row, she's just upset…_ "I'm not letting you give up. There has to be a way, even if we have to go back to England to find it. I'll–I'll scour all of the libraries myself if I have to."

Hermione seemed to soften at this uncharacteristic offer. "Oh, Ron…"

Before he could even process her movement, Ron felt himself be caught up in one of those devastatingly amazing kisses that Hermione seemed to dole out on special occasions–the kind that made Ron feel numb and yet somehow tingling with tiny pinpricks of fire all at once.

"You'd really do that, wouldn't you?" she asked seriously, after she was apparently done. All Ron could do was nod dumbly and just stare into those somber eyes.

_Blimey, she knocks me senseless when she does that_, Ron marveled, though he wasn't complaining. He cleared his throat, "It's getting late."

Hermione, with a small smirk of satisfaction at her effect on Ron, looked out at the setting sun. The anxiety seemed to flood back into her features.

"Why don't we book a room at an inn and stay one night–we can try once more in the morning before going back, if you're up to it," Ron suggested.

This seemed to fill Hermione with hope and fearful anticipation all at once. "Oh, yes alright–_two adjoining_ rooms will do nicely," she finished with a small grin.

Ron raised his eyebrows innocently and they both laughed, if a bit ruefully. Ron put an arm protectively around her small frame, and they set off to find a hotel.

At long last, they found a comfortable-looking place with the proper vacancy. Hermione, who had become quieter and quieter as the night grew darker, gave Ron a swift kiss goodnight and pushed the door to her room closed. Ron, feeling quite tired himself, stripped down to his shorts and undershirt and climbed into the warm bed.

Several hours later, Ron was still wide awake–and so was Hermione. He knew this, because he could hear her crying softly into her pillow. His heart ached for her, but he didn't know what to do. _Does she want me to go in there? Will I just embarrass her? Or does she need me? Don't flatter yourself…_ Endless questions and doubts sent him in circles, until finally, _oh, bloody hell, I can't just lie here._

Ron slunk out of the bed and slowly pushed open the door between their rooms. In the moonlight from the open window, Ron could see the small huddled mass that was Hermione on the far side of the bed. She had her back to him, but at the sound of his footsteps she looked back, swiftly sitting up and wiping her eyes.

"It's going to be okay," Ron said lamely as he came around to sit on the edge of the bed.

"How? How is it going to be okay, Ron?" Her bitterness was back.

_Maybe I shouldn't have come in here…_ Ron thought indignantly, feeling his ears turn red. "Honestly? I don't know." This seemed to take her aback, and he struggled to control his temper. "But what I do know is that I'm going to help you–no matter what it takes." _Where did that come from?_ Ron thought, having surprised even himself.

Hermione's eyes welled with fresh tears. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean–" Ron said, flustered–this wasn't the reaction he'd intended.

"No, no, I'm the one who's sorry," Hermione sniffed, "you're being so good to me, and I'm just–I'm being a complete–"

Ron shook his head and cut her off with a swift, if brief, kiss.

Hermione smiled weakly, "I just–they're my parents, you know? I hardly get to see them anymore, but that only makes it worse, not better. Because now, now I may never get to see them at all–and all because I can't manage a stupid spell! And what could I possibly do without them in my life? I mean, when it comes down to it, your parents are the one sure thing that you've got," she babbled on earnestly, "even for the simple things, like, oh, I don't know, who'd take care of me when I'm sick?"

_I would_, Ron thought.

"Who'll be there to look after me at the end of the day?"

_I will._

"Who's there, if not my parents, that loves me–unconditionally?"

"I am."

Hermione stopped, mid-rant, to look at Ron with eyes the size of cauldron cakes.

_Did I say that out loud?_ Ron thought, trying not to panic. Yet now that he'd said it, he couldn't deny it. _And besides, you know it's true._

"I–I, I am–I do–love you," he got out, looking down at his knees, "I think I have for a long time." Even though he was not in the habit of putting his heart on the line, Ron found that this felt right. It was as though some fundamental truth had been waiting to reveal itself. And now, in this moment of epiphany, nothing had ever seemed clearer.

After a few moments of shocked silence, Ron felt Hermione's finger gently raise his chin as she made him meet her gaze. "For ages…" she breathed, and Ron knew that she wasn't talking of his feelings, but her own. "And I don't know if I just realized it, or I always knew, and never wanted to admit it," she thought out loud. Now she was the one who seemed to find their knees so interesting, "I'm sorry that before… that I never–"

"_I'm_ sorry that _I_ never," Ron interjected. They shared a somewhat nervous chuckle and grinned awkwardly at each other.

Both Ron and Hermione seemed to realize at the same moment that Hermione's finger was still perched under Ron's chin. She gently pulled him forward until their forehead's touched and their eyes–inches apart–bored into each other with a new hope and understanding.

"I love you too, so very much," Hermione murmured into the small space between them.

Ron would never be able to describe his pure, unadulterated happiness at actually hearing her say those words for the first time. In answer, he closed the distance to her lips and kissed her–melting into her until he hardly knew where his being ended and hers began.

"We will get your parents back," Ron said softly, confidently, when they pulled apart. Hermione simply nodded and tried to hold back fresh tears. Ron hugged her close and kissed her forehead lightly. He rested his chin on her head for a moment, eyes shut tight, trying not to cry his own tears–tears of joy or tears of pain for all that they'd been through, he wasn't sure. _Maybe both…_

"Goodnight," he said, and started to get up, only to have a small, yet strong hand catch his wrist as he slipped off the bed. He looked back at Hermione curiously.

"Couldn't you stay… for a bit?" she asked quietly.

Ron didn't have to say anything, but smiled and slid into the bed behind her. He slipped an arm in around her waist and held her hand tightly, cradling her into his long, lanky form. This had become a comforting and familiar position in the last month–him holding her, her holding him, holding each other. It was the best cure for all of the funerals, all of the endless meetings, all of the worry and anxiety over their family and friends and Harry in particular. And even if nothing else was right, at least they had this, for this was safe and peaceful and–even if they hadn't realized it until that night–blissfully anchored in an honest love that had been growing for years.

Hermione woke the next morning to the sound of Ron's rhythmic breathing beside her and the morning sun streaming across her face. She sighed, happy for this moment of tranquility and reassured in the embrace of the young man beside her.

Hermione was still, at times, surprised that they could be so close after only a month. _But then, for all intents and purposes, it's been many months on top of that, hasn't it?_ Months–years, even–of ups _and_ downs, she knew. She also knew that there would most likely be more to come. _At least we're finally on the same page_, she thought with a wistful smile at the memory of the previous night. Yet along with that memory came the painful recollection of why Ron had come into her room–why they were here in the first place.

_I refuse to start crying again_, she determined, gritting her teeth and taking a deep, calming breath. She quietly tried to extract herself from Ron's arms, but had to suppress a chuckle when he seemed to instinctively try to hold onto her. Instead, she rolled over in her space and gave Ron a demure kiss on the cheek to wake him.

"Donewannagettupyet," he mumbled almost incoherently and dislodged his arms to rub his face in irritation at the morning.

"Freedom!" Hermione laughed teasingly as she crawled out from under the covers and walked over to the open window. There was an intangible hope building inside of her as she watched the sun climb into the pink and gold sky. She turned back to her red-headed companion, who had already fallen back to sleep, head under the sheet. She decided to get ready to go and gather their few things before waking him again.

Finally, she couldn't put it off any longer and so sat down on the bed and tried to wake Ron as gently as possible. Unfortunately, she was rather unsuccessful as he shot up within a moment reaching for his wand–he'd had rather a hard time shaking the "ready at a moment's notice" posture of the previous year.

"Shhhh, hush," Hermione said soothingly, somewhat startled herself, "everything's fine!"

Ron soon seemed to take in his surroundings and his ears flushed in embarrassment. "Fine? Fine! I'm fine…" he trailed off with an apologetic grin. Hermione just laughed and tossed him his jeans.

"So," Hermione said brightly once Ron was dressed, "I want to try reversing the spell once more. And if it doesn't work," she plowed on with a deep, calming breath, "then we'll go home and research and I'll come back and give it another go."

"_We'll_ come back," Ron corrected her with a smile.

_We! Together!_ Hermione thought with a smile, feeling more than a little guilty at her happiness with Ron when her parents didn't even know their own daughter. _You can't think like that Hermione,_ she lectured herself, _take what joy is given you and hold onto it–use it. Use it… Merlin's beard! Of course… but what if–_

"Hey!" Ron snapped playfully, waving a hand in front of her face.

Hermione snapped out of her reverie, feeling that elusive hope growing strong inside of her. "Sorry," she laughed, "I was just thinking–"

"Oh, what a surprise," he teased.

"_I was just thinking_," she reiterated, feigning indignation, "that I just might be able to do this–with your help, of course."

"My help?" Ron said, a little bewildered. "Just tell me what to do."

Hermione kissed him her thanks and pulled him out of the hotel, setting off bravely for her parents' flat.

Hermione felt her confidence momentarily falter when she saw her parents eating breakfast through the kitchen window. Facing them once more without recognition seemed an unbearable possibility, but she closed her eyes and turned away, already rehearsing the complicated spell-work in her mind.

"Alright," she said to Ron, removing her wand with one hand and taking hold of his hand with the other, "try and focus all of your attention on me and anything you might… erm… like… about me…" she finished uncomfortably. She chanced a look at Ron and saw that his brow was slightly furrowed in confusion. He seemed to be contemplating what he should do or say in response. _Brilliant job, Hermione, now you've made him nervous… perhaps it was too soon…_

Yet Ron surprised her by leaning down to kiss her softly and whisper into her ear, "I love you, what's not to like?"

Hermione felt a huge grin sweep across her face as her cheeks flushed. She looked into his anxious face–she could tell he wasn't sure if he had done the right thing in offering those words again. For Hermione, on the other hand, all nerves seemed to have melted away–from worries about Ron to the anxiety over performing the task ahead, all seemed to have disappeared with her growing certainty that she and Ron loved one another. She felt giddy, like she could do anything in the world, as long as she had his love. _And luckily, that is precisely what I need right now._

Hermione suddenly realized that she still hadn't assuaged Ron's nervousness. "Thank you," she burst out, still grinning ridiculously.

"Thank you?" Ron said uncertainly.

_Bloody… when have you ever had such a hard time with words?_ "Yes, _thank you_. Thank you for being here and for being so wonderful. _I love you_," she finished emphatically. Ron was apparently without words, but his own features now mirrored the ridiculous grin already plastered across Hermione's face. They simply stared at each other in this fashion for several minutes, each lost in the other, until Ron seemed to come to his senses.

"Ahem," he cleared his throat, "your parents?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. Alright, we're clear on the plan?"

"Clear as I ever am on your plans," Ron teased.

Hermione swatted his arm playfully and took hold of his hand once more–perhaps a bit too tightly. Gripping her wand in front of her, she focused with all her might on the spell and her parents through the small window. The day before, she had felt the magic getting caught about within her–resonating but unfocused. But at this moment, it was coursing through her whole body, reaching out to the wand's tip with purpose. Yet Hermione could have sworn there was another source of magic flowing through her as well…

Hermione finished the spell and stumbled with the release of power and concentration. Ron caught her swiftly and she leaned against him gratefully.

"Are you alright?" Ron asked, concern etched in his features.

Hermione smiled weakly, "never better." _I just hope that worked…_

"What do you think we ought to do now?"

Hermione felt fairly recovered from her exertion, but was at a loss as to how to approach her parents after both she and Ron had accosted them the previous day.

Lost in thought, it took Ron a minute to get her attention. "Hermione," he was saying impatiently, "Hermione, will you look, please? Look!" Hermione followed the line of his excited finger and saw that it was pointed at her parents standing in the window.

_My parents standing in the window!_ She was afraid to get her hopes up, but she walked cautiously forward. Mr. and Mrs. Granger looked dazed, but they were staring intently at her. Hermione wasn't entirely certain of what occurred in the next few seconds, but they ended with her parents flinging open the front door to find their daughter poised on the threshold.

"Oh, Mum!" Hermione cried and flung her arms around her mother, who reciprocated warmly though she was obviously still very confused. "Dad!" Hermione called, turning to her father and hugging him tightly.

"Hermione, dear, what–what's going on? What are you doing here? What are _we_ doing here?" her mother asked, taking in her surroundings more fully.

Hermione laughed and wiped the joyful tears from her eyes. "Let's just go inside and we'll explain everything."

"We?" her father asked, looking past his daughter's smiling face. "Oh! Ronald! How are you?"

Hermione turned to see Ron standing back from the group, obviously not wanting to intrude on the reunion. He stepped forward now and shook Mr. Granger's hand. "Well, sir. I'm glad to see you remember me."

"Remember you? Well it hasn't been that long has it?"

"Technically speaking, it's been a day, but–"

"We'll tell you all about it," Hermione cut him off, seeing her parents' puzzlement growing exponentially, "I promise."

A few hours later, Hermione had related the events of the past year–at least what she thought her parents could handle–with a few additions from Ron. Mostly, though, Ron sat quietly with a mug a tea in one hand, supportively holding Hermione's in the other–a fact which did not escape the notice of Mr. and Mrs. Granger, befuddled though they were.

Sensing that her daughter and Ron had been through more than they let on, Mrs. Granger insisted that they at least finish their tea while she and Mr. Granger began packing.

With her mother in the kitchen and her father upstairs, Hermione swung herself towards Ron, who was smiling broadly at her.

"What?" she asked innocently.

"You did it, it worked," he replied, still smiling.

"Yes, it did," she grinned back–his smile was infectious.

"But, erm… _why_ do you suppose it worked? This time, I mean," he ventured tentatively.

Hermione was thoughtful for a moment. "Well… Dumbledore always said that love was one of the most powerful forms of magic."

The lines of Ron's forehead knotted as he pondered this somewhat cryptic response, but his smile soon returned and he nodded. "I always said the old codger still knew a thing or two."

Hermione laughed, but was distracted by her father staggering down the stairs with a heavy trunk. Ron was immediately on his feet and at the foot of the stairwell, magically levitating the trunk safely to the floor. Mr. Granger shook his head, laughing heartily. Ron cautiously joined in the laughter and offered to lend his wand to the packing efforts. With a grateful clap on the back, Mr. Granger led the way upstairs, Ron in tow.

_Now there's courage_, Hermione smiled as she watched them go. Grabbing their empty mugs, she made her way into the kitchen where her mother was wrapping up dishes.

"Need some help, Mum?"

"Hermione–yes, thank you."

It felt good to stand next to her mother in the small, warm kitchen–almost like home. Hermione had been worried that it would be difficult to find that familiar rhythm she usually had when talking with her mother. Yet before she knew it, they'd abandoned their packing and were leaning against the counter, deep in conversation.

"Do you know, I think Ron seems to have grown to be a fine young man," Mrs. Granger hinted as she caught sight of him sending another trunk to the foot of the stairs.

Hermione narrowed her eyes playfully at her mother and laughed. Ron waved at her from the stairs and she waved back, blushing slightly. Mrs. Granger raised her eyebrows and Hermione laughed sheepishly, unable to stop herself from smiling. Mrs. Grainger raised her eyebrows higher with a barely contained chuckle.

"I do know one thing," Hermione beamed, "he loves me."


End file.
